They Almost Made It
by Awakened Angel
Summary: It may have taken them seven years to get there, but Ron and Hermione thought it was worth the wait. **Five times Ron and Hermione almost made it, and one time they really did.
1. The Yule Ball

_Part I - December 25, 1994_

Hermione stormed through the common room's portrait hole, ignoring the Fat Lady's loud comments about inconsiderate people. She had been having such a good night. . .She had even been _kissed_ tonight. And then Ron Weasley had to ruin her night. Again.

"You had no right!" she shouted at him over her shoulder. She almost tripped over her blue dress as she swung a leg in and her hair was falling out of its knot but she didn't care. She was livid.

"No right? He looked like he was about to attack you right in the middle of the Great Hall!" Ron yelled back at her, following her into the common room. He was just as angry as Hermione, his face turning red and his hands shaking.

"How would that have been any of your business?" she retorted nastily.

"Because he-he's using you!"

Truthfully, he had just caught them right when Victor pulled away from the kiss he had bestowed upon her, and Hermione was grateful for that. If he had happened upon them during the kiss, she'd hate to see his reaction then.

"Using me? Oh, that's great. Because no one would ever want to ask me out for a night unless they had an ulterior motive, right?"

Ron flushed even brighter, his eyes sliding away from her face and down to the ground. At least he had the decency to look ashamed at what his statement had implied. "I didn't mean it like that," he said quietly.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Right. It doesn't matter. What _does_ matter is that you ruined my night—one of the first nights that I finally got to have fun, where you or Harry weren't breathing down my neck for the answers to the homework you didn't even try to do. No, the moment you saw the opportunity, you swooped right in there and drove Victor away to completely ruin the night!"

"That's not why I did it!" said Ron loudly. "I did it because I was worried for you! I thought he was using you; he's Harry's opponent! Even you must have thought something was off when he asked you to the ball, or when he was lurking around the library whenever you two were there."

Apparently that had been the wrong thing to say. Hermione's eyes flashed dangerously and she took a step closer to him. "Is the thought of someone fancying me so revolting to you that you don't think anybody in the entire world is capable of it?"

Ron's eyes widened as he realized his second mistake and rushed to fix it. "No! No, that—that's not what I meant at all! But—"

"But what, Ron?"

He paused, looking for the right words to describe what he was thinking. But it was no use. His thoughts were a big jumble of apologies, each worded more ridiculous than the last. If he ever said stuff like that to Hermione, she'd laugh in his face, he was sure of it.

"Forget it," she scoffed, accepting his silence and turning to head up the stairs to the girls' dormitories.

"No! Wait, Hermione, I didn't mean it like that!" He reached out and grabbed her hand to keep her from leaving. Ron was no good at this, but this was his best friend. And she was right; he had ruined her night, so he was determined to fix it in at least one way and resolve their fight.

"What?" she said, exasperated.

"I'm sorry," he said miserably.

Hermione snorted and Ron could have sworn he felt a twinge of pain in his chest at the sharp noise in the otherwise silent and empty common room. "There shouldn't even be a reason for you to be sorry. I mean, _honestly_."

"But there is, and I am! I'm sorry for interfering with your night with Krum. I'm sorry for interrupting you guys right in the middle of your conversation outside the common room. And I'm sorry that I implied you weren't good enough to have a night with just because they liked you. Blokes don't need an ulterior motive to ask you out." He took a deep breath, hoping for the best.

For a moment, it seemed like Hermione was going to forgive him. But no.

She shrugged, her body language giving off the vibe of being indifferent to his little speech, but her eyes wouldn't meet his and she wouldn't stand still. She kept fidgeting. "Well, that's just too bad. What's done is done. So unless you want to go downstairs and find Victor to apologize. . ." She trailed off, waiting to see if Ron would take the bait. She met his eyes, gauging his reaction.

His arms tightened across his chest and he winced. "Apologize to him? Not bloody likely."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "So what's the difference between apologizing to me and apologizing to him? Because he doesn't give you homework answers?"

"No, because I actually care if you're upset with me!"

She fell silent and crossed her arms across her chest, looking away from him again. "You sure have a funny way of showing it," she said weakly, trying to grasp at an argument to bring up that would make him apologize to both of them.

Ron suddenly shot forward, his face glinting with anger. "I didn't want you to go tonight with a stranger who might have had ulterior motives for asking you! That's why I was upset!"

Encouraged by his sudden outburst, Hermione felt her frustration finally reach its peak. "Well, if you don't like it, you know what the solution is, don't you?" she yelled.

"Oh, yeah? What's that?" Ron replied in a patronizing sort of voice.

She only had half a second to think about it before it came tumbling out of her mouth. "Next time there's a ball, ask me before someone else does, and not as a last resort!" She turned around and caught a passing glance at Harry, standing in front of the portrait hole looking stunned, before running up the stairs to bed. She didn't bother listening to Ron's reply, or if he even had one. She didn't care.

. . .

Hermione didn't come down to the common room until much later that night.

She guessed that it was pretty late, in the early hours of the morning. It was still dark outside but it was past midnight.

"Hermione."

Jumping slightly, Hermione turned around to see Ron looking up at her from one of the armchairs in the corner of the room. He looked tired, and his hair was awfully messy, as if he had tugged at it hundreds of times in frustration in the past few hours since they'd last seen each other.

Hermione sighed exasperatedly and collapsed on the sofa tiredly. "Not now, Ron," she said. "I can't take any more fighting."

He shook his head and rose unsteadily to his feet. Making his way to where Hermione was sitting, Ron sat down next to her. "No fighting. Promise."

She looked up at him curiously but with a hint of anger still glinting in her eyes. "Then what do you want?"

"To apologize. No, really, listen," he said when she opened her mouth to interrupt him, "I am really sorry. Everything I said tonight was. . .out of line. I just didn't want to see you get hurt, and I was upset when I found out someone had asked you."

Hermione shrugged casually, but her heart was beating ridiculously fast in her chest. He was upset that someone had asked her? Did that amount to jealousy? And if it did, then why wouldn't he just say that? Although, she was partly to blame. She could have asked him to the Yule Ball. But that would have been embarrassing. It was all just so frustrating, and she really didn't want to think about any of it right now.

"Why were you upset?" she asked quietly.

Ron looked like a fish out of water. "What?" he asked, praying that he had heard her wrong. He really didn't want to get into that now. It was late and he was tired, so he was bound to say something unbelievably stupid.

"I _said_ ," Hermione began, irritation beginning to creep into her voice, "why were you upset when you saw me and Victor at the Yule Ball? Did you honestly think I would just go to the ball by myself and deal with the jokes the next day?"

Ron felt a wave of sympathy for Hermione. He had never even thought about what the girls would have said if she had shown up alone.

"Because. . . .I don't bloody know, Hermione! I just know that I wouldn't have wanted you to go with someone who didn't know you. And I don't just mean know your name and the fact that you're brilliant and smart, because anyone could find that out after spending five minutes in the same room as you, but I'm talking about knowing all of you. It would have been an insult to you, honestly."

Hermione raised her eyebrows, a little shocked his statement. That was awfully sweet of him. She was still terribly confused about. . .well, everything. She was touched that Ron thought she deserved someone who truly loved her. There was still some lingering anger at what he had done to her and Victor, but she slowly felt that fading away as she looked at her best friend.

"Well, then why didn't you say anything?" she asked.

Ron shrugged. "Because I was scared it would sound stupid. That you would have laughed about it because you would have gone off about how you could take care of yourself and all that shit."

Hermione sighed heavily and put her hand on Ron's knee. It lasted for about a second before she realized that it was awkward and she hastily removed it without looking Ron in the eye. She had a feeling he was blushing bright as she was.

"I don't," she said, leaning back against the couch and closing her eyes. "Think it's stupid, I mean. I think it's sweet. Really sweet, honestly." Hermione opened one eye and looked over at Ron.

When he saw her look at him, he quickly averted eye contact with her and looked down at the ground to avoid her. "Thanks," he said.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders casually and sat up, feeling a wave of exhaustion overcome her as it suddenly hit her how late it was and just how very tired she really was. Standing up, she brushed off her nightgown and retied the knot of her bathrobe.

Ron followed her actions and walked next to her by the girls' staircase. He leaned against the banner trying for all the world to look casual and failing miserably. His eyes were too wild, darting all around the room and his hands kept fidgeting.

"Good night, Ron," Hermione said softly, but she made no move to walk upstairs.

Ron looked down at her and she realized how big their height difference was. She barely brushed his shoulder. And standing there, at whatever time it was in the morning, Hermione didn't feel so tired anymore even though she had almost fell over a few minutes ago. Ron made a little movement with his hands, as if he was going to touch her, and he opened his mouth to say something, but then he stilled and his mouth fell shut, and Hermione bit back the rising disappointment she felt blooming in her chest. Maybe, if she could just figure out what she wanted to say. . .she could tell him she truly wanted to go to the ball with him. Maybe. . .

"'Night, Hermione," Ron whispered, and when he turned around to walk to the boys' staircase, she felt his whole side brush against her, and Hermione had to bite her lip to keep the words she still hadn't formed properly in her head from spilling out.


	2. Grimmauld Place

_Part II - August 1, 1995_

Ron was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet in anticipation as he waited anxiously for Hermione to make her arrival. He felt like it had been ages since he had seen her, but it had only been a few weeks.

He was anxious to see her, to make sure she was okay and that nothing had happened to her. If something, or someone, had hurt her. . .No. It couldn't be starting so soon. After all, Harry had only just told them that You-Know-Who was back a few weeks ago. He couldn't be that powerful, or have that many supporters.

Not after what had happened after the First War.

Still, Ron felt a huge weight lifted off of his shoulders when he heard his mum call up from the first floor. "Ron! Hermione's here, come say hello!" He flew down the stairs and a huge smile graced his lips when he saw Hermione standing there with her trunk and wearing an identical grin on her face.

"Hermione," he said, unable to keep the smile from growing wider. He walked over to her and hugged her hesitantly, and when he felt Hermione wrap her arms around his waist in return, he felt another wave of relief that she hadn't just stood there. After all, they didn't normally hug—they were more often arguing—but it seemed like that was a new development in their friendship.

"Hi," she said when he let her go and leaned against the door casually. Hermione looked him up and down, and he seemed to have grown taller since she had last seen him, while she stayed her own small height. It was even harder to talk to him normally when she had to crane her neck to look at him. "How's your summer been so far here?"

Ron shrugged, but she could see the dejected look in his eyes and could see that his summer so far hadn't been very fun.

Neither had hers, and she was looking forward to catching up with her friend.

After a moment of slightly awkward silence, Ron took her trunk in his hand. "Come on, I'll show you where you'll be staying with Ginny."

Hermione followed Ron up the stairs to the second floor and to a door at the end of the hall. "My room's right down there," he said, pointing at a door a few doors before. "In case you're looking for me." He blushed a little after the words came out, and Hermione hid her smile behind biting her lip.

Before they could even reach for the door handle, Ginny had flung the door open and threw her arms around Hermione. Hermione, who had always gotten along with Ginny just fine, was nevertheless a little surprised by her sudden attack.

"Finally! You're here! I've been waiting for you to come so I have someone to _talk_ to." Ginny cast a sour look at Ron. "And so _this one_ will shut up about when you're getting here."

Ron immediately blushed even redder and swore at Ginny under his breath. Hermione didn't even reprimand for cursing, she just smiled softly at him and decided to take pity on him. "Well, that's good, because I've been counting down the days until I could get here, too. I've been bored at home all summer, it's a relief to be around people I can talk to normally."

Ron smiled brightly at Hermione, and she returned it just as enthusiastically.

Ginny looked between the two of them and scoffed a little too obnoxiously. "Oh, just shut up and snog already," she said before taking Hermione's wrist in her hand and pulling her into the room and shutting it in Ron's face.

"Oi!" Ron called out, surprised, but Ginny ignored it.

Hermione fell onto her bed and rolled onto her stomach, bending her knees up. She looked up to catch Ginny watching her suspiciously, and immediately felt self-conscious under her careful inspection. "Is there something on my face?" she asked a little sarcastically. She hoped Ginny wasn't going to ask anything about Ron, especially after her statement right before she had dragged her in the room.

"How's your summer been?" Ginny asked, ignoring Hermione's question.

Hermione sighed and shrugged, rolling onto her back. "Boring. I really was waiting to get here, despite the circumstances."

Ginny grinned at her and joined her on the bed, laying down next to her. "So you didn't say that just for Ron's benefit?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Shut up, Ginny," she muttered quietly, refusing to look her friend in the eye.

Ginny laughed and sat up on the bed. "Everyone sees you fancy him, you know," she said, hoping to get a reaction out of her. All Hermione did was stare at the ceiling. Knowing her, she was probably trying to keep herself from bursting out into a speech about how she didn't fancy Ron complete with examples and factual evidence.

"I don't fancy him," said Hermione expressionlessly, still not meeting Ginny's eye.

"You know you can tell me if you do," Ginny said, much quieter now, her tone very serious. Hermione did look up now and saw Ginny perched on the edge of the bed looking at Hermione with caring eyes. "I mean, we all consider you part of the family by now, anyway, so it wouldn't really make much of a difference."

Hermione kept quiet for a moment and for a few brief seconds, she considered telling Ginny. Telling her about how when she saw Ron now, ever since the Yule Ball, her stomach began to tighten in the most uncomfortable of ways but still she managed to find a pleasure in it. How she looked for little things to argue with him about so she would be distracted from the things she found most endearing about him. And, considering how much time she had been spending just _looking_ at him, she had begun to notice a whole bunch of things. She wondered if he was noticing things about her, too.

But Hermione just kept her mouth shut and instead scoffed at Ginny. "Please, don't be ridiculous. Me and Ron? That's just. . .we hardly even get along as friends. Even if I did fancy him, it would just be five times worse."

Ginny bit her lip and went to her own bed. "Well, alright then. If you say so." For a moment, Hermione wondered if she had hurt Ginny's feelings by so blatantly refusing to talk to her about boy troubles, but she could see there was a small smirk playing on the edges of her lips.

Before she could ponder what it meant, there was a knock on their door, and when Ginny said it was okay to come in, Ron stepped inside almost shyly. He was probably still embarrassed from what Ginny had said before. "Mum wants you both downstairs in the kitchen." He turned to speak to Hermione. "She swears you look fifteen pounds thinner from the last time she saw you, even though she barely got a good look at you when you walked through the door."

Hermione laughed and followed Ron down to the kitchen with Ginny trailing behind her. Mrs. Weasley was in the kitchen as usual, cooking something that smelled delicious and cutting up slices of bread.

"Hermione, dear!" Mrs. Weasley enveloped Hermione in a hug and she felt warmer, suddenly. Being with the Weasleys just felt so natural by now. She thought of it as her second family now. "So good to see you. But you look practically starved! Come sit and eat now."

Ron sent her a knowing look that seemed to say " _I told you so_ ," and sat down next to her, though he didn't reach for a plate.

"You're not eating?" Hermione asked as she bit into a piece of warm bread.

Ron shook his head. "Ate already."

Hermione smiled to herself, liking the idea that Ron was sitting here with her even though he wasn't eating. He just wanted to sit next to her. She knew the feeling. She missed him a lot.

"So, Hermione," Mrs. Weasley said from the stove before Hermione got the opportunity to start a conversation with Ron. "OWLs are coming up this year. I expect you'll be working hard, and encouraging Ron and Harry to do the same?" She sent Ron a look that had him looking at the table to avoid it.

"Of course. I'm nervous, obviously, but I hope that I manage to do well. Or at least I hope I don't have a panic attack before the exams start."

Ron snorted. "Please. You, freak out over an exam? Hermione, you're the brightest student in our year, maybe in all of Hogwarts. Everyone will be surprised if you don't end up with perfect marks for everything."

Blushing slightly, Hermione distracted herself by tearing another chunk of bread off and eating it so she wouldn't have to speak. She was scared her words would stumble over each other if she attempted it.

. . .

Ron walked down to the kitchen of Grimmauld Place that night, exhausted but unable to sleep. He passed through the drawing room and found a small figure curled up on the dusty couch. Looking closer, he recognized Hermione's untidy brown hair. She had a book in her hand, but her arm had fallen off the couch in her sleep and was now curved towards the floor, her finger still marking her page.

Figuring she should at least have something to cover herself with, since she didn't have a blanket, he looked for one in the room. Unable to see properly through the dark, he accidentally hit his foot on the corner of the low table and swore loudly. Too loudly, apparently.

Hermione shot up immediately, dropping her book to the floor, but she didn't pay any attention to it. "What's happened?" she asked to no one in particular.

"Just me," Ron hissed, his foot throbbing in pain. He waited for it to fade away before he collapsed on the couch beside Hermione.

"What are you doing down here so late?"

"Well, I could ask you the same. But," he gestured to the book that had fallen, "it was obvious. I couldn't sleep, so I came to get something to eat. I saw you and. . .well, I tried to get you a blanket but I hit my foot. And woke you up. Sorry."

Even in the dark, Hermione could see Ron was red in the face and laughed a little. "That's sweet of you. Thanks," she said. "I couldn't sleep either, so I came down to read one of the more boring books I haven't been able to finish. I guess it worked out pretty well for a little."

"Sorry," he said automatically.

"You already said sorry," said Hermione.

They fell silent for a few moments before Ron spoke again. "What do you think Harry's up to?" he asked her.

For the first time in Hermione's life since she had known Harry Potter, she didn't want to worry about him even though she knew this would be the time he needed them most. For now, Hermione wanted to sit with Ron and just talk like they used to before this whole Voldemort situation had arisen once again. But the moment he said Harry's name, she came crashing down and realized she would have to speak about it soon enough anyway.

"I don't know. He's probably miserable," she said dejectedly. "Alone with those Muggles, worrying about Voldemort—sorry, You-Know-Who."

"I hope the Order lets him come here soon. He can't be doing very well on his own. And he needs support right now, from people who know what's going on. Not from those Muggles, as if they'd even want to help him if they knew what was going on."

Feeling a little overwhelmed by the sudden dreary turn the conversation had taken, Hermione stood up hastily and gathered her book in her arms. "I think I should get to bed. Your mother would have a heart attack if she found out I didn't sleep in my bed."

Ron stood as well, and Hermione had a sudden flashback of last year, after the Yule Ball, when she and Ron had stayed up late and resolved their fight about Victor Krum. Brushing the thought of Victor away, even though she had a letter to respond to from him, she made her way to the staircase and made to walk up when she saw Ron following her.

"Weren't you just about to take something to eat?" she asked.

Ron paused, one foot on the step. "Right. . . ." he said distractedly. He turned to face the direction of the kitchen. "I'll see you tomorrow, Hermione."

Hermione made it about five steps before she ran back down the stairs to catch Ron's sleeve when he was almost to the kitchen. When he turned around, she threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly around his middle, as she was too short to reach his neck properly. Ron, though shocked, immediately hugged her back. She felt tears welling up in her eyes as she remembered how worried she had been for both Ron and Harry while she had been away, but was determined not to cry.

Leaning back, Hermione tipped her head up to look at Ron. She had a feeling the bewildered expression on his face mirrored her own. And before she could stop herself or think it was a huge mistake to do, Hermione stretched up on her toes and kissed his cheek swiftly. She had only done it once before, right at the end of fourth year after she'd said goodbye to Harry, but this wasn't a goodbye from friends.

"Goodnight, Ron," she whispered and disappeared up the stairs before Ron could say anything to her.


	3. Nighttime Patrols

**A/N:** I'd like to apologize for the slow update. I know I haven't been very good at it lately, but I hope I can get back to a regular schedule finally.

. . .

 _Part III - February 4, 1996_

Ron ran out of the common room hurriedly, clutching his bag in one hand with his wand in the other, and ran right into Hermione as she was approaching the portrait hole.

"Oh, Ron! Good, I was just looking for you."

"I know, I know—patrols, right?"

Hermione's eyebrows rose in surprise, and Ron felt a rush of satisfaction at putting that expression on her face. "Exactly. I'm surprised you remembered. You hardly ever do." She tried to sound stern but a smile was fighting itself onto her lips.

"Don't worry, I remembered. Come on, let's go."

Together, they made their way through the halls together, working side-by-side in a type of silence that was only mildly unsettling. Hermione thought she ought to say something, but she didn't know what to start with. Ron wanted to ask her how her day had been but he had been with her for the majority of it. It was very frustrating to stay friends with a person of the opposite sex when everything suddenly becomes so very awkward.

After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, Hermione decided to break the silence. "How was your day?" she asked hesitantly.

Ron cast a sidelong glance at her and shrugged casually. "Typical classes. Managed not to get detention today. I'd say it was a pretty successful day, to be honest."

Hermione smiled slightly, shaking her head. She knew she should have said something about him improving his behavior or working harder in school, but she couldn't bring herself to damage the already fragile peace that was settling over them right now.

They worked in silence for the next half hour, both of them not daring to say anything to keep the peace. Their tempers with each other were remarkably short and neither wanted to set the other off.

In the end, when they had cleared more than half the castle, Ron asked, "So what do you think about Umbridge?" Immediately, he wanted to kick himself. It was February! They'd spent the entire year with that troll! And he was asking her now, especially when Hermione made her thoughts about her very clear.

Hermione raised one eyebrow. "I think she's awful," Hermione said as if it was obvious. Which it really was. "You know that."

Ron nodded quickly, hastily trying to fix it. "Right, right. The whole DA thing. Right."

Hermione paused in her walking and waited for Ron to stop too. When he did, she leaned against the wall and crossed her arms. "Ron," she started, "are you alright? You seem on edge tonight."

Ron shook his head. "No, no, just very tired."

She looked around their surroundings and shrugged. "Well, we have already gone through most of the floors. We only have one more to go. If you'd like, you can go on up to bed and I'll finish up over here."

Inside, Ron was jumping at the chance to go back to the common room, pile himself under his blankets, and go to sleep. But he couldn't leave Hermione here to do prefect work all by herself. And he didn't even _want_ to. He wanted to take the time to spend some time with her, without Harry, because whenever he was around, the threat of Voldemort always seemed to come up, or the DA, or Umbridge. "No, it's fine. Like you said, one more floor. I think I'll manage."

Hermione nodded, but Ron could have sworn he saw some kind of relief or pleasure sparkling in her eyes. Smiling to himself at the possibility that maybe she wanted to spend some time alone with him, too, he finished their patrols with her with a little bounce in his step.

On their way back to the common room, they ran into trouble.

Draco Malfoy seemed to be doing patrols late at night as well, and at the sight of them, he got a sickly glint in his pale and pointy face.

"Weasel," he said nastily as a way of greeting. He purposely ignored Hermione, something that didn't go lost on either Ron nor Hermione, but both chose not to say anything.

"Move, Malfoy." Ron tried to shove his way past him, but Malfoy pushed him back.

"And where are you going right now. Off to finish patrols? Or going to find some empty classroom to spend some real quality time together?" he mocked. Hermione turned bright red and Ron began to stutter about something ridiculous, something involving cake and bed.

"We're going back to our common room, where we plan on going to _separate_ beds in our _separate_ rooms, and going to _sleep_ ," Hermione said.

"Well, fine then. If that's what you think everyone is going to believe."

Malfoy didn't try to stop them when they hurried past him this time, and once they rounded the corner, Hermione collapsed against the wall, covering her mouth to hide her laughter.

Ron was shocked. Why would she even be laughing? Was it because Malfoy made a crack at them being together? It couldn't be that bad of a thought, could it? He looked around confusedly. "Hermione," he said. "What's so funny. Are you getting overtired? Because I get hyper then, too. Is it what Malfoy said? I mean, it can't be that revolting to you, really."

At his words, Hermione stopped laughing. She looked up at him with wide eyes. "God, Ron, no, of course not. I would never laugh at that."

Once again, Ron felt the undying urge to kick himself. "Then why are you laughing?"

"Because it's such an obvious remark to make. He couldn't even think of anything better. I was expecting something nasty and foul, but it wasn't so bad." Hermione shrugged. "Not something to fall into hysterics about, but I couldn't help it. It was pathetic."

Ron let a smile of his own grace his lips and he nodded. "Well, we always knew Malfoy was rather pathetic."

Together, they made the rest of the way to the common room and stopped outside the portrait hole. The Fat Lady was watching them, waiting for them to say the password.

Hermione pressed her back to the wall and Ron stood in front of her, waiting to see if she had anything else to say. And she did.

"Thank you for tonight."

Ron scrunched up his eyebrows in confusion. Apparently that's all he could feel tonight. "For what?"

Hermione shrugged. "For staying. Not leaving me to do the rest of the patrols by myself. If you had, I would have seen Malfoy by myself, and. . .well, I don't know what could have happened if I did."

Ron felt a sudden urge to hug her and he would have if Hermione didn't stand up on her toes to kiss him on the cheek.

"I'll see you in class tomorrow, Ron," she said, blushing slightly as she made her way to the portrait hole. She said the password and stepped in, glancing back and smiling at him once more before she went up the stairs.

Ron began to follow her, and had one foot through the hole when he heard the Fat Lady speaking behind him.

"She has gotten very pretty, hasn't she?" she said in a singsong voice.

"Oh, shut it," Ron replied before he closed the hole and went up to bed.


	4. The Funeral

_Part IV - July 3, 1997_

"How are you doing?"

Hermione jumped slightly, turning around with a hand pressed to her heart. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw it was just Ron, coming to check up on her.

She was sitting in one of the armchairs of the common room, absentmindedly playing with the hem of her black dress. It was a Muggle dress, the only black thing she had brought with her to Hogwarts that weren't her school uniform. She felt horrible, wearing a Muggle dress to a wizard's funeral, but it was already done.

"Hermione," Ron spoke up again, now putting his hand on her shoulder.

Hermione looked up at him and gave him a small smile that Ron couldn't help but notice didn't reach her brown eyes. "I'm fine. Just waiting for it to all start." She looked down once again.

Ron felt a strong surge of pity and admiration for Hermione. She had been keeping it together as long as she could, for Harry and, he suspected, for him. She was the one who always tried to keep her head on during the situations they always managed to get themselves into. And now, when Ron thought that Hermione needed to let go of herself the most in light of the tragedy that had struck Hogwarts, she still kept herself together.

"Where's Harry?" Hermione asked as Ron settled himself down on the armrest of the chair she was sitting on. Ron shrugged and looked away, and Hermione knew that Ron had probably stayed up waiting for Harry to come back to the dorm, but fell asleep. She wondered if Harry had come back at all only to leave early in the morning, or if he had stayed out all night.

Hermione put her hand on his arm comfortingly, forcing him to look at her, seeing her eyes soft and warm. "It's gonna be okay," she said.

"Are you sure?" Ron responded, letting some bitterness seep into his voice. "Because I don't see how anymore."

Hermione shrugged, and something about her casual movement angered him.

"I just do," she told him. "It's Harry. He's survived everything people have thrown at him since he was literally a baby. I have faith in him. And Dumbledore's death. . .A tragedy nobody will ever forget. But I think we'll all learn something from it."

"Yeah," Ron said sarcastically, folding his arms over his chest. "Never trust Snape. That's what I've learned from it, not that I didn't know that from the first time I walked into his class six years ago. But nobody listened to me, or you, or Harry, when we said he was bad news."

Hermione leaned against his arm, resting her head on his shoulder and they didn't talk for a few minutes. They just sat there, thinking that there was something terribly wrong with this world they were forced to live in.

"At least Harry has you," Ron said quietly. Hermione looked up at him, and vaguely realized she wasn't surprised to see the tips of his ears turning bright red. "And Ginny," he added on quickly when he felt Hermione's gaze on him. "He's lucky to have you guys there to always keep him on his feet. He'd probably be dead without you guys there."

"And what about you?" Hermione said. "You were Harry's first friend. And not just here, you were his first friend ever. You mean so much to him and you don't even realize it."

Ron looked down at her from his perch on the armrest, with eyes shining with a fierce kind of pride burning in them.

The portrait hole swung open and their conversation was suddenly broken.

Lavender Brown walked in, wearing long black robes. Her blond hair was tied up in a bun, and her face was clean of any and all makeup. She looked very humble standing there, and she seemed to have not noticed them until she looked up and her eyes locked with first Hermione, then Ron. She opened her mouth to say something, paused, and then closed her mouth for a few seconds.

"Hi, Lavender," Hermione said softly.

"Hi, Hermione," she said back. "Are you going down soon?" she asked.

Both Ron and Hermione could tell she was trying to force a conversation out, and it was obviously not doing well for her.

"We were just waiting for Harry to come down," Ron told her.

Lavender nodded slowly, eyes going back and forth between the two of them. "Okay, she said in a low voice. "Tell Harry I'm. . .I'm sorry."

 _She doesn't have anything to be sorry for_ , Hermione thought to herself. _So many people told me and Ron to say they're sorry to Harry. For what? They didn't kill Dumbledore, Snape did. He should be apologizing, and if he did, it would never be enough_. But Hermione didn't repeat her thoughts to Lavender. Instead she just looked at her and told her she would do just that as soon as she saw him, even though she and Ron both knew it would mean nothing.

Once she was gone, Ron relaxed his stiff body and relaxed against the side of the chair once more, letting Hermione fit herself back to her previous position.

Hermione kept quiet for a few minutes before the question nagging at her brain finally made itself know. "Have you talked to her at all since she broke up with you?" she blurted out.

Ron looked over at her, startled, and she worried for a minute that she had hit a nerve, one she wouldn't be able to fix with a simple _I'm sorry_. But Ron just kept looking at her with a bewildered expression on his face. "No," he said. "No, I haven't. She's been ignoring me since that night. Can't say that I blame her. I mean, what must it have looked like to her, us coming down from my bedroom like that?" He blushed once again and Hermione couldn't help the heat spreading across her own cheeks. She would never forget Lavender's screaming when she saw them walking down the stairs as casual as can be.

"Pretty bad, I suppose," Hermione said, shrugging her shoulders and avoiding Ron's eyes. "And everybody else, too. They probably all thought we were having some kind of affair behind Lavender's back."

Ron snorted. "Affair? You make it sound like some trashy romance novel." He laughed once more before rubbing his eyes tiredly. "Anyway. There's really nothing we can do about it now. If Lavender ever wanted to. . .get back where we were, she'd do something mental like tell me not to see you anymore."

Hermione jerked back, eyeing him wearily. "Why would she do that?" she asked, feeling a sense of panic rising in her even though she knew Ron and Lavender were broken up and her friendship wasn't in danger from her anymore. "I mean. . .six years of friendship. You'd think even Lavender would know better than to break that up, right?"

"I suppose. I'm just saying, it sounds like something she'd do, doesn't it? It's why I'm planning on staying away from the jealous ones for the rest of my life. In the beginning, it's rather fun, but after a bit, it's just annoying."

Hermione didn't want to let her own jealousy show, but she found it a bit ironic that Ron was talking about not wanting to date any jealous girls when she was always worrying about him and his own inferiority complex with Harry. But she wasn't stupid enough to say anything like that to him.

"So you're planning on dating other girls, then?" Hermione asked in what she hoped was a teasing tone.

Ron didn't look her in the eyes as he nodded sheepishly. "I'd like to, yeah."

Hermione ran her hands through her messy hair nervously. "Well, then, unsure how to respond without sounding plagued by envy. "Where's Harry?" she asked, quickly changing the subject.

Ron shrugged. "I don't know. Suppose he'll be down here any minute. Funeral should be starting soon."

There was such an empty ring to his voice, something that broke Hermione on the inside. She took a shaky breath, turning to face the window. The sun was impossibly bright today. How could it look so cheerful today?

"What do you think we'll do now?" Ron asked after a few more minutes of silence.

Hermione shook her head. "I don't know anymore. I suppose we'll go home after this. Come back for seventh year and finish school. And Harry will defeat Voldemort, and we'll help him any way that we can, and everything is going to be okay."

Ron smiled down at her, his eyes too bright for the situation they were in right now. "You're so positive. How do you know we're gonna make it out of this war alive?" he asked her.

Hermione scoffed once, giving Ron an incredulous look. "I _don't_. But I'd rather be positive about it all than sit and think about the fact that my death could come at any second. I don't want to think about that. I want to forget about it for a while."

So they did. They didn't speak and for the first time in what felt like years to Hermione (but it was really only since they had become friends again after Ron almost died), they were able to sit in silence comfortably without the pressing need to fill it with awkward conversation as they skipped over the one topic they both knew they needed to discuss but were too scared to do so.

During their time of peace, Ron slipped down beside her on the chair, and Hermione moved over a little so they could have enough room to sit comfortably. He put his arm around her shoulder and Hermione leaned into it, resting her head on his arm again.

"Hermione," Ron spoke up.

"Yes, Ron?" she replied with her eyes closed.

"I need you to promise me something."

There was something in his voice, something that made Hermione look up at him with curiosity filling her up. "What is it?" she asked as she saw the protectiveness that was clouding his expression.

"I need you to promise me that you'll be careful. And if me and Harry, well, if we don't want you doing something. . ."

Hermione immediately blanched. "Are you crazy? You think I'll let you all risk your lives while I'm stuck doing absolutely nothing but worry?"

Ron slid off the chair and went down before her, crouching on his knees so they were eye level. "I _can't_ let you do it. I can't willingly put you in danger when I don't know if I could ever see you again."

Her eyes softened and she reached out to put a hand on his cheek. "I'm going to be fine. We're all going to be fine. Trust me when I say you'll live a long life filled with me nagging you." Ron let out a soft laugh and Hermione found herself comforted by the sound.

He leaned up so he was still a little taller than her, and took her hand off his cheek to hold it in his own hand. Hermione's hand felt like it was burning, her heart was racing, and she was barely able to process the fact that Ron was leaning in. He was leaning in and she wasn't doing anything because she was too stunned to tell her damned brain to _move_ so she could close the very small distance between them.

And when she finally did move, when they were barely an inch apart, the portrait hole opened once more and Harry finally stepped in.

Thoughts of a maybe-kiss fled out of their minds. They jumped apart without even fearing if Harry realized what he had just walked in on. They scrambled up to run over to him.

Apparently, Harry had absolutely no idea what he had just interrupted. His expression was alarmingly blank, and he didn't seem to register the fact that Ron and Hermione were right next to him.

"Are you ready to go, Harry?" Hermione asked carefully, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Harry nodded without looking at her, at either of them. He just nodded mechanically. They both had the feeling he'd been doing that a lot, but knew better than to tell him so. So they led him out of the common room and down the stairs to go outside where the funeral was being held. And at the same time, they glanced up at each other and shared a glance over the top of Harry's head. They wouldn't be alright just yet, but once this war was over, they'd make sure to get there.


	5. The Wedding

_Part V - August 1, 1997_

"Come dance with me."

Hermione didn't realize at first that Ron was talking to her. In fact, she felt that familiar twinge of jealousy before she saw Harry's gaze shifting towards her and she pieced together that Ron was, in fact, asking her to dance.

Blushing, she got up and followed him off to the dance floor, feeling like her hand was on fire as he held it in his. A part of her knew Ron asked her to dance because of Viktor, but she also knew he asked her because he wanted to, too.

"Are you having fun?" Ron asked her as they stepped on the dance floor.

Hermione nodded, smiling around the room. "It's a beautiful wedding. You must be so happy for Bill."

"I am. He deserves to be with someone like Fleur."

"Oh, so you're not jealous anymore, are you?" she teased, loving when his ears turned red.

Without answering, he spun her and swiftly brought her back to him, pressing her chest against his. Even when Hermione was wearing heels, he was impossibly taller than her, tall enough that he was able to rest his chin on top of her head when she leaned her head against his chest. Their friendship had finally gone back to some kind of normal since Ron's epic love affair with Lavender Brown last year, and they were able to sit comfortably with each other in silence.

"Do you think you'll have one of these one day?" he asked.

Hermione looked up at him, squinting her eyes against the sun. "A wedding?" she clarified. He nodded, and she shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. I'd like to have a wedding one day, but I don't see that happening any time soon. Not with the war. We promised Harry we'd be with him. He comes first right now."

Immediately, Hermione knew it was the wrong thing to say. Ron's eyes darkened slightly, and his body stiffened against hers. She hadn't meant it like that, of course she hadn't, but it was true. There was no way she could think of getting married at seventeen during a war!

"I suppose you're right," Ron said quietly.

"What about you? Do you want a wedding?"

Ron raised his eyebrows at her, thinking his answer through. "Yeah, I do. I'd make it big, or small, or however the hell she wanted it, whoever I end up marrying. Or maybe I'll just do what Fred said."

Hermione laughed. "You wouldn't," she said, grinning widely.

"I would! Mum is completely mad. She's downright scary sometimes, with the way she obsesses over everything." He cocked his head to the side, observing her in mock interest. "Kind of reminds me of you sometimes, actually."

She could tell by the smile fighting its way onto his lips that he was just kidding, but she still playfully shoved his chest. "Oh, shut up. I'm not that bad."

Ron's smile slowly faded and then he was looking into her eyes with meaning and strong intent. "You're not that bad," he agreed seriously, and they looked at each other with laughter dancing in their eyes and a constant fluttering in their chests.

There was something incredibly intimate about dancing, Hermione realized as he spun her around once more only to dip her dramatically low just to get her to laugh, which she obviously did. She felt light as air, dancing with Ron at his brother's wedding, and for a moment she could close her eyes and forget that they were in the midst of a war that could come knocking on their doorstep any second. She didn't want to admit her fear to anybody, especially Ron and Harry, but here and now, there was no fear. She would have to leave her life behind as soon as possible, that was true, but there was no pressure. This wedding seemed to act as a shield for all the guests present, for those who were desperate and afraid. _Sometimes_ , Hermione thought, _people forget that we're just kids and only focus on the saving-the-world part_.

After a while, the music had switched to a more slow, romantic song, and Hermione feared for a moment that Ron would lead her back to the table where Harry was. But instead, he just held her tighter, as if he was scared that if he let go of her for one second, she'd slip through his fingers. As if that would ever happen. No matter if he realized it or not, Ron had Hermione in a tight embrace, one that she was content to stay wrapped up in for years. Even forever, if time and fate would allow it.

Eventually, though, someone was bound to disrupt their quiet peace. And that someone just so happened to be George Weasley, walking up to them with a bounce to his step, mirth swimming around in his eyes as he looked between the two of them and asked Ron if he could cut in with exaggerated politeness.

Ron disappeared to get a drink while George his took his younger brother's place.

He opened his mouth to say something and Hermione, seeing this, cut him off before he got a word out. "Don't start," she said. "Not today."

George's expression changed, going from teasing to serious in half a second. "I guess today of all days isn't the day to be making jokes about love, is it?"

Hermione cocked her head to the side, allowing George to twirl her before answering. "No, I suppose it isn't."

He rested his hand on her hip as he guided her through the song, sighing heavily. "A lot of people think he doesn't deserve you," he remarked casually, ignoring her shocked expression. "Me and Fred disagree, though. We think you're perfect for each other."

She rolled her eyes. "Please. I don't think anything is going to happen between me and Ron."

"Then you're blind," George said bluntly.

Hermione didn't answer, and it seemed they would finish the song without any more words exchanged between them. But George was never able to keep quiet. "Just. . . hurry up and do it, already. We've been waiting for a long time for you two to get together."

"And who's 'we', may I ask?" Hermione asked sarcastically.

"Well, there's me and Fred," George said seriously, releasing his hand and keeping the other on her waist so he could count off on his fingers. "Then there's Ginny. Bill, too, he asked me why he hasn't seen you kissing yet. That's four. Harry, I'm sure, is wondering when you'll put him out of the misery of watching you two making eyes at each other all day. Lavender Brown must have guessed _something_ was going on. Oh, I almost forgot Mum and Dad, too. And plenty more."

Hermione was bright red at this point, avoiding George's eyes. Thankfully, Ron appeared right as the song finished, telling George to leave with very little tact. "Do you want to dance some more?" he asked, hope lacing his voice.

She thought of what George had told her, about all the people hoping to see her and Ron together at some point. She smiled brightly and took his hand in a quick motion. "Of course," she said.

They didn't speak for the next few songs, just dancing silently. She could practically feel George burning holes into the back of her head as he observed them curiously from across the tent. And Hermione, trying her hardest to ignore what suddenly felt like millions of pairs of eyes watching them, closed her own and took a deep breath to steady her nerves. It was just Ron, she tried to tell herself. But there was a voice in the back of her head telling her that it had never been _just_ Ron. This was the boy who sacrificed himself on a chess board when he was twelve without knowing the consequences, who risked going through his greatest fear to save her when she was Petrified at thirteen, and stood up on his broken leg to defend Harry against Sirius when he was fourteen. He got jealous over her and Krum, told her that she was the most brilliant person he'd ever met, pushed her until she thought she'd break and at the same time was able to make her laugh until she felt tears running down her face. It was _Ron_ , and it had always been more since that night on Halloween during first year.

"Ron," Hermione said, opening her eyes and catching him looking down at her with wonderment dancing in his expression. "I-"

But whatever she was about to say, whatever confession she had been planning on spitting out with all of her courage, was cut short. Because at that very moment, the war came knocking at their doorstep.


	6. The Time They Made It

**A/N: I want to thank everyone who followed, favorited, and reviewed this story. It's been a lot of fun to do these little missing moments between my #1 favorite couple, so it's pretty sad for me to end it here. But it's the best chapter, because the previous five chapters have all been leading to this one: The time they actually made it.**

 **Once again, thank you all for your support on this little story :)**

. . .

People were dying.

Everywhere around them, people were dropping to the ground. Some gave final shrieks, others were hit too quickly for a reaction to be processed. One minute, they were running and the next. . .they weren't. Hermione was too scared to see which Death Eaters were dying, and which Order members, or Hogwarts students had fallen.

She held on tightly to Ron's hand as they sprinted through the halls, shouting out spells whenever they could, desperate to get to Harry before it was too late. He _had_ to know they had destroyed the Horcrux.

Suddenly, she felt herself bump into someone, and strangling fear gripped her as she thought a Death Eater had caught her, but relief pulsed through her veins like blood when she saw it was Harry. He looked equally as relieved to see them as she did.

"Where the _hell_ have you been?" he asked loudly.

"Chamber of Secrets," Ron told him simply.

"Chamber ― _what_?" Harry said, eyebrows drawing together in confusion.

"It was Ron, all Ron's idea!" said Hermione, looking at Ron in admiration and pride, feeling so grateful that he was at her side. "Wasn't it absolutely brilliant? There we were, after we left, and I said to Ron, even if we find the other one, how are we going to get rid of it? We still hadn't got rid of the cup! And then he thought of it! The basilisk!"

"What the ―?"

"Something to get rid of Horcruxes," Ron said, urging Harry to understand.

Understanding shone in his eyes as his eyes took in the basilisk fangs that Hermione was holding, and he looked back at them with such relief that they were okay after willing to risk their lives to help him that she wanted to cry. "But how did you get there? You need to speak Parseltongue," Harry stuttered.

Hermione dropped her voice to a whisper, glancing around to make sure the corner they were backed into was vacant for now. "He did," she announced. "Show him, Ron." Immediately, she regretted it, because the sound that came out of Ron's lips was horrible and sent chills running up and down her spine. She hated the sound of Parseltongue. "He was amazing," Hermione said, interrupting what Ron was telling Harry. "Amazing."

"So. . ." Harry trailed off, looking more lost than ever. "So. . ."

"We're another Horcrux down. Hermione stabbed it. Thought she should. She hasn't had the pleasure yet," Ron said as he pulled out the remains of Hufflepuff's cup. Hermione eyed it with distaste, when she heard an explosion from above them and dust began to drift down from the ceiling.

As Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked back to the Room of Requirement, Harry explained to them what he had found out about Ravenclaw's diadem. When they entered the room, they saw Ginny, Tonks, and, to Hermione's surprise, Neville's grandmother. She immediately questioned what was happening while Tonks and Ginny wondered about the state of their friends and family.

Hermione tuned everybody out as Harry spoke to the other three, looking around the room and trying to ignore the dull ache in her arms from carrying the many fangs. Soon, Neville's grandmother was gone, disappearing down the stairs, and Tonks soon followed her after Harry told her something about Remus. When it was just Ginny left, Harry looked at her. "Ginny," he said. "I'm sorry, but we need you to leave, too. Just for a bit. Then you can come back in." Hermione tried not to feel so nervous at the gleeful look on Ginny's face as she ran off to the door and fled the room. "And then you can come back in! You've got to come back in!"

Hermione turned to Harry, opening her mouth to ask Harry to tell her more about the diadem, but was cut off when Ron suddenly spoke up. "Hang on a moment! We've forgotten someone."

"Who?" Hermione asked.

"The house-elves, they'll all be down in the kitchen, won't they?"

"You mean we ought to get them fighting?" Harry asked, and Hermione once again opened her mouth to protest, frustration and anger rising in her at their blatant disregard at her thoughts.

"No, I mean we should tell them to get out. We don't want anymore Dobbies, do we? We can't order them to die for us―"

Hermione didn't even think; she let go of the basilisk fangs, barely even registering the fact that her arms were now sore from the weight. She just ran to Ron and clasped her arms around his neck, pulling him down to close the ridiculous height gap between them so she could kiss him on the lips. She felt him stiffen against her, and alarm rang through her mind as she thought he didn't want her to kiss him. But then he let go of the broomstick he'd been holding and took her face between his two hands, pulling her even closer to him. Hermione felt lost, shocked at the experience he seemed to have gained from his four months dating Lavender, but his arm came around her waist and lifted her off the ground, leaving her feet just brushing the floor.

She was aware of a distant yell, but ignored it at the feel of Ron's lips against hers, gripping him impossibly tighter to her. She'd gone seven years without it, and the moment they touched, she wondered how she would ever live without it.

But before they could continue, Harry's voice finally broke through to them, interrupting the brief moment of bliss in the time of utter chaos. "Oi!" he shouted. "There's a war going on here!"

Hermione and Ron parted their lips, but still kept their arms around each other. Ron set Hermione down on her feet and she felt a little dizzy and disappointed when the tight grip of Ron's arms around her waist disappeared. "I know, mate," Ron said, "so it's now or never, isn't it?"

"Never mind that, what about the Horcrux?" said Harry, looking very annoyed with both of them. "D'you think you could just ¨C just hold it in until we've got the diadem?"

"Yeah―right―sorry." Ron's ears turned bright red as the realization of what they'd just done settled in and he began picking up the basilisk fangs with Hermione's help.

Hermione glanced at Ron from the corner of her eyes as she gathered the dirty objects in her hands. His hands were shaking slightly, he was still blushing, and there was a small smile gracing his lips. She thought for a moment what had compelled her to do such a thing when there was a fight going on right outside the Room of Requirement, and decided it was because of Ron. Ron's general presence always made her lose her head in the best way possible. He was just there for her whenever she needed him, always came back for her no matter what. And all she could think about right now was that they had finally made it, that after seven years of fights and makeups, tears and little stolen glances, jealousy and endless frustration, they had finally done what George had told her everyone had been waiting for all those months ago. That conversation seemed like it had taken place years before now. But everything that had happened in between their first meeting till now was just a little bump on the road for them, at least to Hermione. Because she would make sure to have a hundred years' worth of little moments with him.


End file.
